


When You Like Someone...

by lotrspnfangirl



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: 8 months pregnant, Boston, Crushes, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Mpreg, pregnant misha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 21:56:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5107112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotrspnfangirl/pseuds/lotrspnfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Misha returns back home after a bad break up. The last thing he expects is for Youth Director, Jared Padalecki, to step in and pick up the pieces when everything else seems to be falling apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You Like Someone...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Emmatheslayer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmatheslayer/gifts).



> Title: When You Like Someone...  
> Pairing: Misha Collins/Jared Padalecki (p!Misha)  
> Rating: PG-13  
> Warnings: Mentions of abuse, angsty, mpreg  
> Word Count: 6,400  
> Summary: Misha returns back home after a bad break up. The last thing he expects is for Youth Director, Jared Padalecki, to step in and pick up the pieces when everything else seems to be falling apart.  
> A/N: Written for mpregwinchesterPrompt-N-Treat for emmatheslayers prompt ♥ Un'beta'd, alpha read by angelnovak.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it Emma ♥

_Fuck._

Misha ran a hand back through his hair as he let his eyes fall closed and leaned back against the seat of his old beat up Ford Explorer. This was a bad idea. He knew it was a bad idea the moment his father had suggested it. And yet… here he was. Nearly eight months pregnant, in hot pink crocks-–because of _course_ Danielle took his navy ones to work that morning and they were the only shoes that could fit his swollen feet—and he was absolutely starving even though he’d just polished off a farmer’s breakfast with Sasha and Elizabeth not even a full hour ago.

This was already miserable and he’d barely turned off the ignition.

_“You need to stop moping around, Misha…”_

_“Danielle or Elizabeth could use your help at the shop… Or maybe you can talk to Sasha about working for him!”_

_“I bet they could use your help down at the Church! They’re doing this Halloween Event…”_

Misha had agreed to the last suggestion just to get his father to stop giving him ideas every time he walked out of his childhood bedroom. And so here he was, in the back parking lot of their family church. Misha’s gut churned slightly, either from his baby girl shifting around or because he could already see the Pastor’s disappointed face that he hadn’t been there in over three years, he wasn’t exactly positive. But he was sure it was the later.

Sighing softly, Misha pushed open the door and slipped out, wincing as he stretched and straightened his back. There were a few families and couples making their way into the church and he was at least grateful he hadn’t shown up late. Waddling in would be enough of an entrance, thank you very much.

With one arm draped over his stomach and the other hand pressed against the back of his hip, Misha was pleasantly surprised at the sense of calm and familiarity that washed over him. Although he had never been one to attend church religiously --ha, no pun intended-- he always found comfort in being surrounded by the community the church provided. He's missed that over the past three years in California... 

"Krushnic? Is that little 'Misha' Krushnic?" Misha couldn’t fight the smile that spread across his face as he turned to take in the small, elderly lady he’d spent every school-day afternoon with for most of his teenage years. 

“Ms. Brooks.” Misha leaned down, taking the short woman into his arms and ignored the twinge in his back as he bent down to her level. 

“Not so little right now, are you?” She laughed, patting his stomach gently when she pulled back. “Are you back for good, Misha?”

“For a while, at least.” Misha shrugged his response and held out his arm for her to link hers into. “Staying back with my Dad for a bit… just until I get on my feet.” It went unspoken _why_ he needed to get back on his feet when he’d spent the last eight years as far away from Boston as he possibly could, but Ms. Brooks was always smart -- way smarter than Misha had ever given her credit for as a teenager-- and she squeezed his arm, nodding once in understanding. 

“Well, I’m sure glad you’re here. No one else besides you can stand sitting next to me during morning prayers.” 

Misha snorted and paused, letting the woman stop to bless herself before dipping his own fingers into the holy water and doing the same. The cynical part of his mind was snorting at the fact that he hadn’t immediately burst into flames but he shoved it back down, only smirking when he caught Ms. Brooks’ knowing look. 

“It’s nice to see you haven’t changed,” she said softly and turned, pulling him forward down the main aisle of the church. “I’m going to go and find the Pastor’s wife-- we’re talking about what to do for the bake sale next weekend-- you should go and find Jared. He’s the new Youth Director. That’s why you’re here, right? To help with the haunted house?”

“Oh, yeah.” Misha nodded and gave her a small smile. “Brandon left?”

“Wife was transferred to a hospital down in Florida. Guess they were finally sick of the snow.” Misha nodded absently; that would probably be the only thing he’d miss about living in Alabama with Steve… _Don’t go there, Misha_ , he chided himself and forced a smile and a nod to Ms. Brooks before releasing her arm. 

“You better find me before you leave,” She warned him, giving his stomach one more tender rub before crossing the front of the church to the left where Misha knew the small hallway leading to the office was. Taking a deep breath, he turned to the right and moved towards the door that led to the classrooms. 

When he pushed open the door, he stilled immediately, trying to take in the sight before him. The room was packed, mothers and families, kids and even teenagers were milling around the room, chatting and laughing so loudly he was surprised he hadn’t heard it from the front of the church. There were scarecrows being built, pumpkins being carved (and thankfully his stomach didn’t protest to the ripe smell of the squash when it hit his nose), and crepe paper of every color that could be related to Halloween twisted in ribbons across the floor. 

“Jesus,” Misha breathed out, internally wincing as he realized where he was and was thankful no one was around to hear him. He picked his way across the floor carefully, making sure he didn't step on any of the stray ribbons. The last thing he needed was to go down -- there was no way in hell he would be coming back up again. 

He recognized a few faces, people he had gone to school with who now had wives or husbands and kids of their own, and he gave each of them a small wave, ignoring the stab of worry at what they would think when they all started asking about him, checking up on Facebook, and realized he was pregnant and alone, living back with his Dad…

“Hey! Newcomer!” Misha stopped, his baby girl giving him an especially friendly kick to his side, and he turned, blinking once when he found himself staring in the center of a chest. He let his eyes trail up and swallowed when he met friendly hazel eyes staring back at him. 

“You’re tall.” Immediately Misha felt his face heat up, and he shook his head, letting his eyes fall closed as he contemplated just what it would take to get the floor to open up and swallow him whole. “God, I didn’t mean to say that.”

The tall man laughed, and Misha stared, eyes flicking to the large dimples and the long expanse of skin exposed as he threw his head back. If Misha were to notice -- not that he would, not now anyways-- he would’ve thought the man before him was beautiful. Another kick to his ribs made him remember exactly where he was and what his situation was. 

“Yeah, right… So, I’m looking for the youth director. Jared? I think…” 

“Well, you came to the right place,” the man smiled, reaching his hand out. “I’m the youth director, Jared Padalecki. Nice to meet you, Mr…?”

“Oh,” Misha fumbled for only a second before he reached forward, taking Jared’s hand in his own and giving him a good shake. “I’m Misha Krushnic.”

“Misha!” Jared exclaimed, giving his hand a squeeze before releasing it. “You’re Danielle, Elizabeth and Sasha’s brother, right?” 

“Yeah.” Misha nodded and shifted on his feet, letting his arms cross over the top of his stomach. He wondered briefly how much they’d talked about him during Sunday morning services. “So… haunted house?”

“Yes! Are you here to help?” Jared clapped his hands together, the excitement surrounding him almost palatable. Misha let out a slow breath, and against his better judgement, forced a smile onto his face and nodded his head. 

“Yeah, yeah… I’m here to help.”

“One more week!” Jared sing-songed from behind him, causing Misha to jump and _almost_ slip on the fabric he was cutting. He threw Jared an annoyed look, receiving a sheepish smile in response. He couldn't be that mad -- Jared was the least distracting, especially since Jared was simultaneously running the daycare along with the Halloween event, and there were at least twelve kids running around. It wasn’t like he himself wouldn’t have his own distraction in a few weeks’ time, either. But the faint blush Jared always got on the tips of his ears was worth giving him attitude.

They’d been working on the haunted house for almost a week straight now, and although at the end of the day his back was killing and his feet were threatening to dislodge themselves from his body, he had found it easier to get out bed in the morning --mentally at least, his baby girl was not helping him in that department. He knew that part of that was because of the youth director, Jared. 

Misha turned his attention back to the costume he was making for one of the scarecrows, a black velvet grim reaper cloak, and let his mind wander as he cut. Part of him wanted to ask Jared how he ended up in Boston, working for a small neighborhood church, but the idea of starting a conversation and knowing that it would inevitably come back around to him, was enough for him to keep his mouth shut. It was hard enough coming clean to his family… 

_”Dad?”_

_“Misha? Is that you?” Richard asked, pressing the phone closer to his ear. Misha closed his eyes, swallowing hard as he heard the concern in his father’s voice._

_“Yeah, uh, it’s me.” He cleared his throat, biting on his lower lip hard enough that he tasted blood. “I… Dad, I need some help.”_

_“Misha… Where are you? Are you okay?”_

_“Dad…” Misha heard his voice crack, helpless to stop it as a few tears slipped free, streaking down his cheeks. He didn’t think it was possible to cry anymore, would’ve thought he’d been run dry… “I want to come home,” he whispered._

_“Misha, I told you, you can _always_ come home. Son, where are you? What happened?”_

A loud cry ripped Misha from his thoughts and he spun in his chair, grateful that Jared had found him a computer one with wheels. One of the younger boys-- _Adam? Ethan?_ \-- was sitting on the ground, a hand pressed against his cheek, and wailing with thick tears running down his cheeks. Standing over him was a little girl, Susie who had a bright pink dress on (it was still just as shocking as when Misha had seen it that morning. Mental note: _No_ shocking pink flamingo dresses for his baby girl). 

Misha was about to push up out of the chair and see what was going on when Jared moved past him, effortlessly dodging the kids still racing around and the various projects laid out in the room.

“What happened?” Jared asked, demanding but voice still soft as he dropped to his knees and reached for the screaming boy. “Susie… Did you hit Ethan?”

_Ethan. Knew it._ Misha leaned forward in his chair, allowing himself to see the entire scene before him. When Susie nodded slowly, her own eyes welling with tears, Misha held his breath and waited to see what Jared’s reaction had been. So far, there hadn’t been many incidents that needed punishments, but Misha found himself fascinated and analyzing every kid-interaction he came upon. 

“Susie, you _know_ we don’t hit; we keep our hands to ourselves. Why did you hit Ethan?” Jared had the boy in his lap now, checking the boy’s cheek without drawing attention to the fact he was doing so by rubbing soothing circles on his back. 

“‘Cause my sister said that if you like a boy, you are mean to them!” Susie answered, staring at Jared with wide, blue eyes as if it was obvious. Misha had to bite back the snort; how many times had he heard that before? He moved to turn back around and return to his costume, but Jared’s next words stopped him cold. 

“Susie, you never hit anyone, especially the people you care for. When you like someone, you show them by being nice to them! Why would someone like you back if they knew you were just going to hurt them?” Jared paused, waiting for his words to sink in. “Do you feel good that you hurt Ethan?”

“No,” Susie shook her head, looking down at the ground. 

“But you did, Susie. You hurt Ethan and I think you owe him a really big apology, don’t you?” Jared looked down at the boy in his lap, giving him a small nod when he peeked out from behind Jared’s arm. Susie made her apology, too mumbled and soft for Misha to hear, but he watched as Ethan nodded and threw himself into her arms, the two of them hugging like their lives depended on it. “Remember,” Jared said, catching their attention again. “When you care for someone, you show them with happy, good things. Not mean and sad things, right?”

The two kids nodded and ran off again, altercation forgotten and tears mostly dried. Jared sighed as he made his way back over to the table Misha was at, sinking down into the chair opposite him with a small smile on his lips. 

“Happy, good things?” Misha repeated, raising an eyebrow in Jared’s direction. 

“Shut up,” Jared laughed, nudging his foot underneath the table. “They’re three, Mish. Not like I can tell Susie to take Ethan to a movie and he looks hot in his overalls.” 

Misha snorted, shaking his head as he picked up the scissors and resumed his cutting. “You’re good with them,” he said after a moment, glancing up to see Jared staring at him. Misha felt himself flush and quickly mumbled, “Guess that’s why you’re the youth director…”

“I like kids,” Jared answered. “I think they can teach us a lot about ourselves, they’re always honest and don’t beat around the bush. It’s too bad they lose that the second they hit twelve…” 

“My daughter is going to stay single digits until she’s thirty. No high school, no dating, no worrying about cars or curfews.”

“Let me know how that works out for you,” Jared laughed and Misha felt warm all over at the sound. He glanced up, meeting Jared’s eyes with a small smile. 

“Yeah, well, maybe you’ll still be the youth director and you’ll get to see it firsthand.”

“You’re planning on staying? In Boston, I mean?” Jared asked and Misha cursed himself silently for walking directly into that trap… 

“I haven’t really decided… don’t really have anywhere else to go. My Dad’s here and my brother and sisters. I think they’d be pretty upset if I ended up taking the baby away from them… Family’s a good reason to stay, I guess.” 

Jared nodded thoughtfully and opened his mouth to speak when another cry came from across the room. He sighed, closing his eyes for a two-second count before he pushed away from the table. “Duty calls,” he said as he walked past, and Misha tried to ignore the nagging need to know just what it was Jared was going to say.

Nothing was going right this morning. They had three days left until Halloween, and Misha had promised Jared he would get there right at eight am so they could have an hour before the rest of the kids got there, but for the life of him? Misha couldn’t get out of his own damn way.

He had dropped the shampoo in the shower and spent more time than he would’ve cared to admit trying to reach for it before he gave up, and against his better judgement, called Danielle in for help to retrieve it. 

There had been frost overnight, and once he stepped out into the cold, he had to turn right back around and into the apartment because the urge to pee had been so strong he knew he’d never make it to the truck, never mind all the way to the church. His baby girl had been active, doing somersaults against his stomach, and for the first time in months he’d been nauseous and unable to eat breakfast. 

Running out the door the second time, his father had shoved a few envelopes in his hand and now that he had finally gotten to the church --only fifteen minutes late, surprisingly-- he was frozen to the spot as he looked down at the letter. 

_Cedars-Sinai Medical Center_  
8700 Beverly Blvd,   
Los Angeles, CA 90048  
(310) 423-3277 

_Printed: 10/15/2015_

_Dear Mr. Krushnic,  
We are writing you regarding your outstanding balance for your emergency visit on 5/12/2015. We have attempted to contact you on; 07/01/2015, 08/01/2015, 09/01/2015, and 10/01/2015 about your payment plan agreed upon 06/12/2015. We have yet to receive a payment towards your outstanding balance. _

_We are extending a one-time offer to settle your account in full for the amount of $6,892.56 if received in full no later than 11/15/2015. If the full payment is not received in full, this offer will become Null & Void and your account will be sent to collections. _

_Please send your payment by PERSONAL CHECK or CREDIT CARD._

_If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to contact us._

_Donna Hamnquist_  
Patient Financial Services  
Cedars-Sinai Medical Center  
Phone: 323-866-8600  
Fax: 323-866-8685 

Misha felt his stomach twist as he scanned over the letter again and was grateful he hadn’t eaten anything. The page in his hand was shaking slightly and he felt himself starting to panic, the overwhelming cold dread washing over him, like a bucket had been dumped over his head, and his heart was beating wildly in his chest. He didn’t have this kind of money… Hell, he was still trying to figure out how the fuck to pay for everything the baby needed! And they were only giving him a few weeks to get almost seven thousand dollars together?! Did they honestly expect anyone to be able to do that?

He wasn’t going to be able to do this. There was no way. How was he supposed to be a father when he couldn’t even take care of himself? Maybe Steve had been right after all… Tears welled in his eyes, but he could do nothing to wipe them away. His arms were shaking too hard, his body rooted to the spot. He was going to fail, he’d already failed, and he hadn’t even had his baby yet… 

_Misha!_ He could hear his breathing, loud and sharp, echoing in his head along with the rapid beat of his heart. He could feel himself sweating, could feel his little girl shifting around, unimpressed with the panic her father was feeling. He was falling apart… _Misha?! Misha!_

Steve had known, known it all along. That’s why he didn’t want this, didn’t want Misha if it meant having a family with him. He was good for one thing, and being responsible for someone else was not something Misha was good at. _You can’t even take care of yourself, Misha. Look at this house! Have you even bothered starting the laundry? Done the dishes?_ No, he hadn’t, he’s sorry… _Look at you! You’re useless! Why do I keep you around, huh? Can you answer me that?_ I don’t know, I don’t know… I’m sorry, I’ll do better. Please… I’m pregnant. _You’re pregnant? Pregnant? You’re disgusting. You can’t even do that correctly! You think it’s funny, getting knocked up? I’ll show you knocked up…_ Please, please, please… 

Two large hands were on his shoulders, pulling him across the seat. “Misha!”

“Don’t touch me!” Misha yanked back, gasping as he landed hard with his elbow slamming against the door frame. “Please, don’t.” 

“Okay, I won’t touch you.” The voice with him was calm, soft and definitely not Steve’s hard, sharp inflection. “You’re okay, Misha. I won’t touch you, but I’m going to sit here, okay?” The voice continued, warm and soothing and that, more than anything, helped him focus on calming his breathing. When he finally opened his eyes and met the concerned, deep hazel ones across from him, Misha couldn’t help the tears the burst forth.

Sobbing, near uncontrollable, Jared’s eyes widened and he reached out, hands shaking as he asked, “Can I… Fuck, Misha, what can I do? Can I… please let me touch you? Hug you, something?” Misha nodded and Jared was suddenly there, long arms wrapped around his back and pulling him in. There was just a moment of panic, a feeling of being suffocated as his face was pressed against Jared’s solid chest, but it was fleeting and soon Misha was melting against Jared, sobbing into the crook of his arm, hands wrapped tight in the bottom of Jared’s sweater. 

“Shhhh,” Jared soothed, rubbing his hands over Misha’s back and rocking them gently in the front seat of the truck. Misha knew he didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve Jared to fawn over him as he fell apart hysterically, but there was nothing he wanted less than to pull back from the warmth of Jared’s arms. In them, he felt safe, felt like his baby girl was safe, for the first time since he was discharged from the hospital and left his job, his home and his friends in LA without a second glance back. With Jared, there were no hospitals or bills, no ex-boyfriends or angry employers, friends blowing up his phone asking him where he was, who he was staying with, why and when and how… 

“I’m sorry,” Misha mumbled, sniffing loudly and cringing as he realized Jared’s right arm was entirely soaked with his tears and his snot. “God, I’m so sorry…”

“Misha…” Jared whispered, wiping his thumb across Misha’s cheek. “You don’t have to be sorry.”

“I do! I told you I would be here, and instead you find me late and falling apart. I blame the hormones, I really fucking do…” Jared gave him a small smile, hand still pressed against the side of Misha’s neck, eyes still trained on his face. “I’m okay now. Really… Just… Weekly meltdown.”

“You can always talk to me,” Jared answered, waiting for Misha to nod before continuing. “Come on, I have some tissues and hot chocolate waiting for you inside.”

“God, please. I’m sure I look like a freaking mess.” Misha rolled his eyes, reaching up with the edge of his sleeve to wipe the rest of his face. 

“Even so, you’re still beautiful,” Jared replied, squeezing his neck once more before slipping out of the truck, stopping at the door to the church to wait for Misha to join him.

Yesterday had been, surprisingly, not as awkward and Misha thought it would’ve been. Jared had supplied him with hot chocolate all day, squeezed his shoulders or let his hand rest on Misha’s lower back when they were near one another, and otherwise acted as if Misha hadn’t broken down into a million pieces before him and Jared hadn’t been the one to tape him back together.

He hadn’t been able to find the letter from the hospital when he’d gotten back in the truck, but it didn’t matter anyways. He didn’t even have a job, wouldn’t have a job for a few months at least, and that was only if he could figure out childcare pre-employment, so there would be no payment heading their way. As he slipped out of the truck, hand rubbing over his swollen middle, he found himself feeling guilty for some of his thoughts the day before. 

“You know I love you, right baby girl?” he asked, waddling slowly across the parking lot to the side door of the church. Jared was already there and had kept the heavy door propped open with a chair. “Probably can’t call you baby girl forever…” 

He entered the classroom, and a quick glance around told him that Jared was elsewhere. He walked across the room, smiling at the way it had been transformed. They really only had the finishing touches to do… Jared had moved the daycare across the hall to the smaller Sunday school room, but they’d been blessed with relatively warm weather and had been able to have the kids outside for most of the week. The room had turned into a labyrinth of crooked graveyard paths, the sides littered with coffins and hanging bats, and the large platform at the back had been made into a ‘Franken-Lab’ where kids could play with gross looking things in jars. 

Misha made his way over to the lab, wondering if they could prepare anything early and shove it in the fridge until tomorrow night… He sank down into one of the chairs they still had out and laid his hands flat against his stomach, smiling as he felt a foot press against his left palm. 

“Hey baby.” He pressed back, wondering what it would be like to actually be able to feel that tiny foot without his stomach in the way. He wondered what she was going to look like… if she’d look more like him, or more like Steve, and knew that he’d think she was beautiful either way. “What do you think about Alison?” he asked, waiting a second and shaking his head when there was no response. “Hmmm… Sarah? Maddison? Kelley or Taylor?” 

There was a soft kick at the last suggestion, and he laughed, rubbing the spot where she sat. “Taylor… Taylor Ann?” 

“I like it.” Jared’s voice made him jump, and soon a hot chocolate was pressed into his hand and Jared was sinking into a crouch before him. “Can… Can I?” He motioned towards Misha’s stomach and it suddenly occurred to him that other than holding him as he sobbed, Jared had never touched his stomach. It usually irked him to no end when people reached out to feel or listen or talk to his stomach, less so when they deemed it appropriate to ask, but with Jared he found himself nodding quickly, suddenly anxious to know what Jared’s hands would feel like against his skin. 

Jared’s touch was feather-light at first, ghosting over the swell of Misha’s stomach. “She’s towards the right,” Misha whispered and Jared looked up, catching his glance and offering him a smile before returning his attention back to Misha’s middle. 

“It’s so amazing, you know?” Jared said softly, hands pressing more firmly, hot and comforting through the thin layer of Misha’s shirt. “There’s life in here, a baby girl… Taylor Ann.” 

Misha watched as Jared leaned forward, lips close to his side, hands pressed flat against his stomach. “I can’t wait to meet you, Taylor Ann. You have a fantastic Daddy, you know. You’re already one of the luckiest girls I know. He’s hardworking, and smart… He’s super funny, though I’m sure you’ll go through a phase where you’re going to think he’s anything but. He’s beautiful, inside and out, and I know he already loves you.”

“Jared…” They fell into silence, Jared humming a song softly under his breath, hands still making their way around Misha’s stomach until they froze, Jared’s eyes widening as he gasped. His expression was one of pure awe and Misha had to laugh. “She’s kicking. Right here.” He reached for Jared’s left hand, sliding it over and pressing down so Taylor would kick back.

“Oh my god,” Jared gasped, eyes flying up to meet Misha’s once again. “That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever felt.”

“It’s pretty neat,” Misha agreed and received another kick for his trouble. “Except… on your bladder. I have to, you know…” 

“Oh! Right!” Jared pushed back on his heels, moving into a standing position and holding out his arm to help Misha up. Misha’s stomach fluttered at the contact, and he knew it had nothing to do with Taylor. “I’ll be in the other room… kids will be here any minute.”

“I’ll meet you over there…. as long as you don’t mind me staying?” He had come this morning on the off chance Jared would say yes, would want him to stay, since the rest of the setup could be done before the event. 

“I’ll meet you in there,” Jared confirmed, giving Misha a warm smile before slipping past him and off the platform. Misha watched him make his way down the crooked path, taking care to stay within the lines even though he didn’t have to. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but with that it had been Jared that he’d met out of high school, and not Steve. 

Before he had time to analyze the thought completely, Taylor pressed once again right against his bladder. “Yes, yes, I’m going!”

When he got back to his chair to pick up his bag, he saw a envelope sitting on the chair. He picked it up, seeing his name written in neat, blue block print. He slid his thumb underneath the tape holding the flap down and slipped out two pieces of paper. One was the letter he’d thought he lost from the hospital, the second made him fall into the chair. 

_Dear Mr. Misha Krushnic,  
On behalf of Trinity Church of Boston, we would like to inform you that you and your family were chosen for our family assistance program. Due to multiple generous contributions, we are happy to inform you that all outstanding medical bills and those upcoming for the current year have been covered. _

_Through our caring and support of one another, love for our neighbors will continue to grow and our faith in God and our brothers and sisters will continue to grow. As a valued member of our community and as God’s child, we extend to you our assistance with open hearts and minds._

_We pray that the Lord will continue to bless you, your family, and your organization as you continue to be a blessing to others._

_Sincerely in Christ,_  
The staff of Trinity Church of Boston  


Misha folded the page up carefully, slipping it back into the envelope and safely into his bag. His heart was pounding once again, but he made his way through the room, smiling at the first two arriving children before slipping into the classroom. Jared was bent over the desk, reaching into a bottom drawer for crayons and looked up when Misha entered. 

“Why?” he whispered. 

Jared stared back at him, just for a second before turning back to find the crayons. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…” 

Misha watched as he pulled the two boxes out and set them on the desk before reaching for the coloring sheets. 

“Come on, we have to pass these out.” Jared straightened up and handed over the sheets. Misha grabbed his wrist, stopping him from pulling back and met his eyes. 

“Thank you,” he said finally, watching as the corner of Jared’s mouth twitched up. When Jared turned to get the crayons to pass out, Misha realized he was smiling too.

“It’s freezing!” Misha sighed, rubbing his hand over his bare stomach, wondering why the hell he thought this was a good idea. He had slipped into Sasha’s old basketball uniform and allowed Jared to slather orange face paint over every inch of his stomach before dragging a black washable marker through it to make his stomach into a basketball. It was cute, sure, until he had to stand, holding the door open for the families coming in and out of the haunted house.

“Do you want to go inside?” Jared asked, suddenly worried. He had come to see how Misha was doing, and Misha was more than happy when he took most of the weight of the door. Jared had been flitting back and forth, inside and outside, checking on every station and all of the volunteers they had in costume to make sure everything was running smoothly. To have him pinned to the door seemed unfair for something he worked so hard for… 

“You worked hard, too!” Jared countered, and Misha realized he’d been speaking aloud. “Alright, well… How about I get you some hot cider and I can find someone to switch places with you for a break?”

“Okay,” Misha agreed, smiling as he watched Jared head back inside of the darkened haunted house, the lime green and blue of his costume disappearing quickly within the crowd. Misha shifted his weight from side to side, wondering if people would still get it if he pulled the tank top down over his stomach… 

He smiled as a family of four stepped up to the church and ushered them in, telling the mom quickly which side of the hall would potentially be too scary for the little one, and directed her towards the ‘Lab’ instead. She smiled, thanking him, and then Jared was squeezing past her, pressing a warm mug of cider in his hand. 

“Why don’t you go and take a break? I’ll be good here for a bit,” Jared offered again and Misha sighed, tossing him a look over his shoulder. “Mish… come on, you at least have to pee, don’t you? It’s been at least an hour and a half... and you’ve had three cups of cider!”

“Are you timing my pees, Padalecki?” Misha watched as Jared’s ears flushed pink, his eyes trained on the ground. Now that Jared mentioned it… he _did_ have to pee… but the fact that Jared had anticipated it before he even thought about it did something funny to his heart. “Alright, I’ll go and pee. Will that make you happy?” Jared’s head shot back up and he nodded quickly, the child-like excitement back. 

“Go! Take your time! Seriously, go and warm up. Grab a snack! But… don’t put your hands in the brain bin. Seriously, Mish… I don’t know what we put in there, but it’s nasty.”

Misha rolled his eyes and took a sip of his cider before leaving the cup behind for Jared to hold. As Misha made his way through the crowd, he found himself thinking about how often Jared had come forward, bringing him drinks and snacks, wanting to talk with him or stand next to him… the romantic part of his mind wondered if maybe, just maybe, Jared was feeling something a little more than friendship for him… The rational part, however, snorted at the idea of him finding a relationship at eight months pregnant, straight out of an abusive relationship. _Yeah, quite the catch._

Misha forced the negative thoughts away and returned to Jared after peeing and grabbing three (okay, four) cupcakes. He assured Jared he would be good, it was only another hour left before they were closing anyways, and then Jared owed him big time for making him stand in the cold. 

After he _re_ -reassured Jared -- apparently Jared didn’t get the sarcasm about making him stand outside-- Jared moved back inside to make another set of rounds. By the time the event was officially over, Misha was more than ready. His teeth were chattering, and he forced himself to drink a huge gulp of his hot cider when he saw Jared coming so that Jared wouldn’t notice. 

“Alright! Everyone’s out!” Jared smiled at him, happy and carefree. “Come on, I snagged us some leftover food. Including those gummy dirt cupcakes you were eyeballing.”

Misha trailed after him, following him into the small kitchenette by the staff room and sank down into one of the chairs. Jared zapped two plates in the microwave and set them on the table, eyes trailing over Misha carefully. 

“Are you still cold?” he asked suddenly, and Misha answered before he could process the question completely. 

“Freezing, actually.” He shoved a bite of American chop suey into his mouth, chewing quickly so he could assure Jared he was fine when he saw the concern flash across his face. Before he could add anything, Jared was pushing back from the table. 

“I’ll be right back.” Misha waited, eating a few more bites until Jared came back with a blanket in tow. He laid it across Misha’s shoulders, rubbing his arms for a few seconds before sitting back down and holding out a pair of large, woolen socks. “They’re clean, I promise… I always keep a pair in my locker. Sometimes the heat doesn’t kick on by the time I get here…”

Misha stared at the socks in Jared’s hand and pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. “Jared… why are you so nice to me? I mean… I know you work at a church, and you’re the youth director, and maybe it’s a stupid question but--”

“Misha,” Jared interrupted him, clearing his throat and taking a deep breath before he continued. “I am nice to you because… When you like someone, you do happy, good things.” Jared’s voice was soft, nervous, and Misha found himself smiling despite the racing of his heart. Jared had managed to answer two of his questions in one go…

Suddenly, he didn’t feel so cold. He had no idea if he was ready for anything resembling a relationship, didn’t know what was going to happen --with him, or Jared, or even with Taylor. But the way Jared had made him feel, in just the short two weeks he’d been there helping with the haunted house… With Jared, he sure as hell could try. Swallowing hard, Misha reached for the socks that Jared had in his hands, letting his fingers trail over Jared’s wrist to pull him in. 

Jared’s eyes flashed to his, a question in his eyes, but Misha shook his head. “When you like someone,” he started, biting back the smile at the surprise in Jared’s face. “And they’re not three years old, you ask them to a movie and tell them they look hot in their overalls.” Misha ran his hand over Jared’s Luigi costume, fingers wrapping around the overall straps. 

Jared laughed, the sound warm and carefree, and Misha closed the distance between them as Jared leaned down to meet him.


End file.
